AN – Hey guys! This fic arose from a prompt given to me by agapimou34. It's based on the episode The Yalu Brick Road (s8e10) and is BJ/Hawkeye centric. This is not a pairing fic but explores the platonic, brotherly love the two characters have for each other. I hope you enjoy it! As usual, reviews would be very much appreciated, they are my writing fuel.

Throughout the story, if you see dialogue written like this: [example], it marks what's being said in Korean by the North Korean soldiers. I felt that some Korean dialogue was needed to explain the progression of events, but I wanted to distinguish it from what the main characters say and can understand. I hope this makes sense.

Obviously, I don't own M*A*S*H, its characters or its plotlines. I don't even really own the basis of this story. I'm just happy to write.

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This day certainly wasn't going well. On what was supposed to be a simple supply run, they had already gotten lost, crashed the Jeep, accidentally captured a North Korean soldier and were now even more lost as they struggled to find their way back to camp. Continually blinded by the bright sun overhead, the small party trudged across the countryside, Hawkeye and BJ leading the way, their prisoner following them loyally. They'd been walking for what felt like hours when they finally decided to rest, slumping down in the shadows of some bushes at the roadside.

Hawkeye, getting tired of their aimless wandering, decided to see if their companion, who he'd nicknamed 'Ralph', could be of any assistance in finding the route home. He drew a vague map in the dirt and gestured to it while speaking slowly, trying to get Ralph to understand their predicament and what they needed. But the Korean only continued to smile at them, a look of happy confusion on his face, so Hawkeye quickly gave up his efforts. He was about to stand up and suggest that they continue their journey when Ralph suddenly leapt to his feet, yelling at them and pointing his gun at their faces.

Startled, Hawkeye and BJ shared an alarmed look before they heard the shout of other Korean soldiers coming from down the road. As the realisation of what was happening dawned on them, they scrambled to their feet and quickly put their hands up in surrender, hoping that if they appeared passive and non-threatening that they wouldn't be harmed.

As the Korean patrol drew closer, Hawkeye's heart sank as he saw the leader's collar adorned with the insignia of an officer. He knew that officers were far less forgiving; they earned their position by being ruthless and harsh, which didn't exactly give him and BJ the best odds. The soldiers came to a halt in front of the two surgeons and the officer eyed them suspiciously, taking in their American uniforms and giving them a look of disgust.

"Hi guys, nice day!" Hawkeye joked nervously, not really knowing the protocol in this situation.

"How about those Dodgers, huh?" BJ added, hoping to lighten the mood with the aim of not getting shot.

The commander shouted something that they didn't understand, and the rest of the patrol swung their rifles up and aimed them at the surgeons. BJ let out a cry of alarm while Hawkeye just looked at them with a terrified expression. Of all the ways he'd thought about dying, this was definitely not the one he would have chosen.

Before anyone could fire, Ralph exclaimed something and barged past Hawkeye to face his superior.

[Wait, commander!] he urged. [Do not shoot these men. They are doctors.] He gestured to the medical bags they had been carrying, each of which bore the tell-tale Red Cross. [They can help us.]

[No!] barked the commander in response. [We will not spare these filthy American pigs. They are useless to us.]

BJ gave Hawkeye a quick sideways glance; Hawkeye looked just as petrified as he did. Neither of them could tell what the men were saying, but from the officer's tone, they knew it couldn't bode well for them.

[But, sir!] continued Ralph. [We have many wounded back at camp and we cannot tend to them all. Surely a doctor could be useful there. At least for a while, until the injured we have there are treated.] He was doing all that he could to give the surgeons at least a temporary reprieve; if he could get them back to his camp, he would be giving himself time to figure out the rest of his plan and hopefully get them set free.

His commander paused for a moment, considering Ralph's argument, before he finally replied, [fine. A doctor could be useful to get our boys up and fighting again. But only one! Two prisoners are a risk I'm not going to take. We'll take… that one!] He pointed at BJ, who flinched subtly. [The other one dies now. I'll leave you to do the deed.]

Ralph knew he couldn't argue any further without raising suspicion and potentially getting them all killed, so he played along and shoved Hawkeye off to the side, keeping his gun trained on the surgeon the whole time. The rest of the patrol grabbed BJ and began to drag him down the road, hurrying him along to the camp before he could start fighting.

"What? No!" cried BJ as he realised that they were separating him from his friend. "Hawk, what's happening?"

"I don't know, Beej. Just do what they say, okay?"

The Korean officer turned to BJ and said in broken English, "you doctor. You come with us. Heal our men." He nodded his head back towards Hawkeye. "He dies."

BJ's eyes went wide as he heard the last part, and he began to struggle against the men holding him. "No! You can't kill him! Hawk, run!" But it was too late. Ralph, seeing the piercing stare his superior was giving him, had no choice but to settle his gun on his shoulder, raise it to point at Hawkeye's chest, and pull the trigger.

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The sound of the gun firing was deafening to BJ. It rang in his ears as he watched Hawkeye collapse to the ground and blood start to pool around him. Screaming, tears running down his cheeks, he tried desperately to tear himself from the firm grasp he was being held in. But the soldiers were too strong for him, and as much as he tried to fight, he couldn't stop them from pulling him further down the road and away from Hawkeye's lifeless form. Eventually, they rounded a corner and he lost sight of his friend completely.

By this point, all the fight had gone out of him. He could feel his energy seeping away as the image of Hawkeye lying dead on the ground kept flashing through his mind. He felt numb. He couldn't believe that his best friend was gone. It felt like his heart had just been ripped from his chest, like his mind had been destroyed. Unable to form a coherent thought, he stared blankly ahead and let the Korean soldiers drag him towards their camp, not caring about what lay in his future anymore. No future without Hawkeye was worth living.

The next few hours seemed to pass in a blur. Before he knew it, they had reached the camp, and he was being shoved towards a group of young men laying on the ground. Each one was injured in one way or another; some only had flesh wounds, while some needed urgent care. He tended to them one by one, doing his best to patch them up with the limited resource on offer to him. He didn't rest until he was finished, the gun continually pointed at the back of his head being quite a good motivator to work. Only when the last casualty had been stitched up was he allowed to move away; exhausted, he fell to the ground, wiping his hands on his pants to try and get rid of the blood that was coating his fingers. The sight of the blood sent his thoughts shooting back to Hawkeye, and a fresh wave of tears filled his eyes. He'd been blocking the memory out of his mind while he'd been operating, but now there were no distractions left, and he had no choice but to confront the tragedy that had happened.

He began to weep quietly, images of Hawkeye's face filtering into his brain. All he could think about was his best friend's smile, the way he laughed when there were joking together. He remembered all the times they'd stood side by side in the OR, keeping each other's spirits up so that they could make it through the gruelling shifts without breaking. He thought about the many occasions when Hawkeye had comforted him after he'd lost a patient, the kind words and gentle reassurances that he'd whisper to him as they sat around the still. It seemed as if every moment of their friendship came rushing back to him at once, and he couldn't handle the overload. The dam finally broke, and he disintegrated into hysterical sobs, burying his face in the crook of his arm as the flood of emotions overtook him.

BJ couldn't bear to think about what would happen now. He'd lost his best friend, the man who had kept him sane throughout all this insanity. Hawkeye was his rock, his shoulder to cry on, and he knew that without him there, the war would carry BJ away to a place that he wouldn't recover from.

Seeing the surgeon's descent into hysteria, the Korean soldiers began muttering to each other. His role had been fulfilled, so they had no further use for him, but none of them could quite bring themselves to end his life. He looked so broken, surely he'd suffered enough for one day. Before they could come to a decision, their commander strode over to survey the scene. He was met by the sight of his wounded, lined up neatly on the ground with their injuries all seemingly fixed, and the surgeon huddled in the dirt next to them, blood staining his clothes, his shoulders shaking as he wept into his sleeve. He turned to see his men all watching him expectantly. He knew that the fate of their prisoner was ultimately in his hands, and while it was usually his verdict to kill anyone who was unnecessary, there was something about the man in front of him that made him hesitate. Seeing him there, heartbroken, desperate, hopeless, kindled a spark of humanity inside the officer. It was a surprise to all of his men when he knelt in front of BJ and said quietly, "you did well. Thank you. You go now."

BJ looked up at him in confusion. "Go?" he asked through his tears. He was expecting them to shoot him now that he was finished with the patients, so the commander's words came as a shock. "Go where?"

"Out." The officer gestured to the woods beyond the camp. "Home. Reward for saving my men." BJ slowly got to his feet, anxious to get away from this place but not knowing if this was a trick. "Go now!" the commander ordered, causing BJ to start edging towards the camp entrance. When no one raised their guns or tried to stop him, he turned and ran full speed out of the camp, ducking behind the cover of a tree as soon as possible. He hurried through the forest, ducking under branches and stumbling over debris, until he had put a good distance between himself and the camp.

Looking behind him to confirm that he was out of range of the Korean soldiers and that no one was following him, he gradually began to slow down, wheezing a little as he drew air rapidly into his lungs. He faltered to a stop, lifting a hand to support himself against a nearby tree as he recovered his breath. Staring at the forest looming ahead of him, he realised that he didn't know where to go; he couldn't bear the thought of returning to the 4077th without Hawkeye, and besides, he would have no idea which direction to go even if he had wanted to return. Glancing around at the various options that lay before him, it hit him that he didn't really care. He didn't care where he went or what would happen to him now, or even if he made it home alive.

That realisation shocked him, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. How could he face going home when he knew that Hawkeye never would? How could he escape the war and return to his loving family when he knew that all Hawkeye's family would receive was a short letter of condolence? Hawkeye was destined to remain in Korea, his body dumped somewhere on a back road, and BJ couldn't leave without his best friend. If Hawkeye's fate was to die in Korea, then BJ knew that it would be his as well.

His mind made up, he set off to finish what the North Korean soldiers had started. They had planned to end up with both of the surgeons dead, and that's exactly what was going to happen. BJ wandered through the forest aimlessly, looking for some way to commit the deed, but all he could see were the towering trees that surrounded him. A gentle breeze was blowing through the woods, and it made the branches dance in place, their leaves glinting in the light of the setting sun. As he observed the scenery around him, BJ realised how serene the forest was. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the war that was raging all around. He decided that if he was going to die anywhere, it may as well be here. It was a place where he could feel at peace with himself and his decision, a place where his spirit could wander happily, if there were such things as spirits, until it was reunited with Hawkeye's and they could spend their new eternal existence together.

Finding a sheltered spot amongst the bracken on the forest floor, he slowly lowered himself to the ground, shuffling around until he was comfortable. He lay back, his head resting on a pile of fallen leaves, and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the forest surround him and drown out his thoughts. In that moment, he felt right. All his guilt had left him, and was replaced by a calm tranquillity. He knew that this was the only path left for him, and while it wasn't exactly going to be a quick death, it was what he deserved. He was headed for the only place where he had a chance of seeing Hawkeye again, the man he loved as a friend and a brother in arms, and he knew that he could never be happy anywhere else.

The forest was where he was going to die.

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Panicked, Hawkeye stared in terror as Ralph raised the gun and pointed it right at his chest. He could hear BJ screaming something at him, but the words didn't register; his mind was too focussed on what seemed to be his imminent death. Hawkeye had got the feeling that Ralph had done his best to try and save them, but now, under the harsh glare of his commander, it appeared as if he had no choice but to shoot Hawkeye in cold blood.

As Hawkeye was preparing to meet his end, he looked up at Ralph one last time. What he saw shocked him deeply. The man met his gaze, gave him what appeared to be a wink, then quickly redirected the gun and pulled the trigger, sending the bullet towards his arm instead.

Startled by the actions and the sudden flare of pain in his arm, Hawkeye stared at Ralph before he realised what the soldier had just done. Knowing he had to play along, Hawkeye immediately dropped to the ground and lay there motionless, doing his best to look dead. Having seen more than enough dead bodies throughout his career, he knew what a corpse should look like, and he prayed that his imitation was convincing enough.

He lay there for what felt like hours, his eyes screwed shut, and listened to the crunch of the patrol's boots on the dirt road as it got further and further away, signalling that they'd believed his performance and were satisfied that he was dead. It was heart-breaking to hear BJ's cries as his friend was dragged away, but he knew that he couldn't reveal himself or else the officer would come back and shoot him properly. He held his breath until the footsteps faded into the distance, then cautiously opened his eyes. He was met by the sight of Ralph smiling down at him, before the Korean reached down to offer him a hand in standing up. He accepted and let the man help him to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him as he stood up. Glancing at his arm, he saw blood seeping into his sleeve, but he could tell that it was just a flesh wound. Turning back to Ralph, he began beaming at the other man.

"Ralph, you saved my neck," he said with a grin. "Thank you." He reached out and gave him a warm handshake, which Ralph returned happily. Then Hawkeye made his way back across the road to the medical supplies. "I better get myself patched up," he muttered to himself, bending down and retrieving a roll of bandages from one of the bags. He wrapped up his injury as best as he could, then hoisted the supplies to his shoulder and moved back to Ralph.

"Well, I better go find my friend," he explained, knowing that the Korean probably didn't understand him but giving it a go anyway. "Thanks again for… everything." He gave the man another handshake and then a wave goodbye, before he set off down the road after the patrol.

It didn't take long until he lost his way. The road split at a fork, so he chose one direction at random, and quickly the way he'd selected narrowed into a dirt footpath that soon became nothing more than a barely marked trail through a forest. Not wanting to turn back, he tried going sideways through the forest, but the dense mass of trees rapidly got him even more confused than before. By the time the sun was beginning to dim in the sky, he was hopelessly lost, stumbling randomly among the trees, looking for anything that even vaguely resembled a road to follow.

As the light faded, his vision became more and more restricted, and he began to trip frequently over unseen objects on the forest floor. He quickly grew used to the crack of fallen branches snapping beneath his boots as he fell over them, so it startled him when his foot connected with something that made a sharp thud instead. Looking down, he was even more surprised when he realised that there was a man laying at his feet. It was hard to make out, but the guy seemed to be wearing an American uniform. Slowly trailing his eyes up to the man's face, he gasped when he saw who it was. No amount of darkness could stop him from instantly recognising those features.

"Beej, what the hell are you doing?"

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BJ knew that night was starting to fall as he felt the air around him begin to cool. He was refusing to open his eyes, but nonetheless his other senses could detect the day drawing to a close. His hope was for the weather to turn, bringing a particularly cold spell in overnight that might freeze him to death where he lay, but he knew this was unlikely. It was most probable that he would have to lie there for several days until his life was claimed by dehydration and prolonged exposure to the elements. While that was not the most appealing way to go, he was comforted by the fact that soon it would be over. He would not have to live with the knowledge that his best friend was dead while he continued to live on.

Lying among the leaves, he could feel the toll the day was taking on him. The emotional turmoil had left him exhausted, and he was content to fall asleep right there where he lay. As he was beginning to drift off, he could just make out the crunch of something moving through the forest, but he paid no attention to it, contributing it to some small woodland creature. When the noise grew louder, it piqued his curiosity, but stubbornly he kept his eyes firmly shut. By this point, he knew the footfalls were too heavy for an animal, but being so close to the North Korean camp, he figured it must be another patrol. Maybe they would discover him and shoot him, putting him out of his misery.

It wasn't until he felt something slam into his foot that he finally opened his eyes. In the darkness, he could make out the silhouette of a single man standing above him. He appeared unarmed, and seemed to be staring down at BJ interestedly. Before BJ's eyes could adjust enough to make out the man's face, he heard a voice that set his heart racing in his chest.

"Beej, what the hell are you doing?"

He was on his feet in an instant, struggling to believe what was happening. But he knew that voice, better than he knew his own. It was undeniably and irrefutably Hawkeye's.

"Hawk?" he asked in a choked whisper, his tears returning full force as he saw his best friend standing in front of him. "I thought you were dead!"

"Ralph saved me," Hawkeye explained quickly. "He shot me in the arm instead and I had to play dead so that the commander didn't find out."

"Oh God," whispered BJ, unable to think straight as relief and confusion flooded his mind. "Are you okay?"

Hawkeye chuckled, and the sound felt strange to BJ after all they'd been through. "I'm fine. The bullet just nicked the side, no big deal. But what about you? Why were you lying out here in the middle of nowhere?"

BJ suddenly felt embarrassed, but he knew that Hawkeye would understand. They confided in each other about everything and he trusted the man more than anyone else. "I… didn't know how to go on without you," he replied at last, averting his eyes from Hawkeye's worried gaze. "I couldn't handle the thought of losing you, and it didn't seem fair for me to live when you were dead. I decided that, if the war had taken you, it would have to take me to, so I was laying here and… waiting for it to happen."

"Oh, Beej," Hawkeye couldn't hide the sorrow from his voice. His best friend was going to let himself die because he thought that Hawkeye was gone, and Hawkeye quickly reached out to embrace BJ in a tight hug. As soon as he felt his friend's arms around him, BJ dissolved completely into another wave of sobs. He wept into Hawkeye's shoulder, clinging onto him as Hawkeye whispered soothingly into his ear. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here, I'm fine. You're fine. Neither of us are going anywhere, okay?"

Eventually, BJ began to calm down. He withdrew from the embrace and just stared into Hawkeye's beautiful sapphire eyes, a small smile appearing on his lips as it truly sunk in that his friend had returned. "So what do we do now?" he asked softly after a long silence.

Hawkeye returned the smile and put a hand gently onto BJ's arm, squeezing reassuringly. "We go back to camp," he answered, and he slowly began to lead the way out of the forest.

At long last, they were going home.